The Gilded Cage
by TheBookAlchemist
Summary: On the outskirts of a fairly large town sits a beautiful Victorian house. So why has it been empty for so long? Because the locals know better. They about the Demon that resides there. Except for the fact that it is not a demon but the spirit of a Prussian boy who's grief and sadness has turned to anger and hate. However is it possible that maybe the new priest will be able to help
1. Chapter 1

Hey all my lovelys! I am so so so so sorry for not having posted ANYTHING over the last couple of months I had to finish up with things and stuff and shit but I have a bit of free time now so I've been doing some roleplay with a friend of mine and I decided to start making it a fanfic. So this a Gilbert x Romano kinda thing and I rp as Gilbert while my friend rps as Roma.

-EN^u^JOY-

The Mayor of the small town pinched the bridge of his nose as he listened work party that month rant to him about some ghost haunting the house on the hill or something like that and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fine fine I'll have some check it out so you can get back to work."

He shooed the man away and sighed a little as he leaned back in his chair. "Man...so much work…." He muttered. "All for some stupid house on the outskirts of town..."

He turned to his laptop and started doing a little research.

After a couple hours he finally found someone who checked out to be pretty legit and sent him an e-mail including the name of the town and state, a home address and a request that he please come and stay in this house for a few days and get to hopefully get everyone over the silly rumors of a haunted house.

"And now all I can do is wait…."

Three Days Later…

There on the outskirts of a mid sized town there sat a lovely two story old victorian house. Complete with an attic and basement as well as a wrap around porch. It was always fully furnished and if any passers by saw it they would have would often wonder why no one lived there. Surely someone would be proud to call it theirs.

The locals knew better though. They knew about the demon that resided in the halls of that house. They heard the stories from others who have tried to live there. Things would fly and smash against the wall. People would be hit and pushed. No one dared go near the house. Not even the workers who had been to remodel it.

Except for the fact that the demon there was not actually. Just a spirit who's grief had turned to anger and hatred. For he could not step foot outside the house and he could not move on to the afterlife. It was like a barrier that had him trapped here. He could only sit there in the house crying and pleading with words that no one could hear. Reaching out desperate hands for help that no one could see. He had started moving

small things and knocking to try and get the original family to notice him. They just called a priest to exorcise him.

Four hours. Four hours they tried to make him move on as he screamed in agony for them to stop. Enough had been enough and he had picked up the priest and literally threw him out of the house. Therefore the boys ghost was now named a demon. Since then three other families and two other priests as well as three different remodeling crews had to invade his home. So far his record for sending someone running off screaming for their mommies five minutes. And intended to break that record.

Now said boy at the second story bedroom window watching through the thick curtains with a glare as a man in some sort of religious attire with a couple suitcases made his way up the path to the front steps. "I'll make quick vork of jou. Jou're nozhing different." He muttered as he teleported himself down to the kitchen. Hiding himself behind the counter.

He heard the door knob turned and he smirked a little as he waited a couple seconds before causing it to slam shut. Causing the heavy wooden contraption to slam harshly into the man's face. He laughed at the groan of pain from the other side of it.

A couple moments later the door started to open again and once more caused it to slam against the man's face. Earning another groan of both annoyance and pain.

Ha! Serves jou right! He thought.

Watching as the door once more opened, slowly. He waited for the intruder to step inside and turn back his back to close the door before he sent about forty knives sailing through the air. Effectively pinning him to the wall by his garments.

"Just give up!" He hissed in menacing spine chilling voice as he drew closer. He was invisible anyway. "Jou're no match for me und zhis is MEIN HOUSE!" He screamed as he sent the suitcases flying out the window followed by the man. Slamming and locking it shut as he watched him land against a tree. With that he gave a satisfied nod. With the fun over he teleported himself back to his room upstairs as he settled back down with a hollow gaze as he stared out the window. Nothing but the usual crushing silence to keep him company.


	2. Chapter 2

Lovino's head snapped up at the sudden scream that was doubtless directed at him. He tried to search around for who it could belong to. His eyes widened as...a table?! What the hell? As a table was hurled down in his direction. Scrambling to his feet, he dived out of the way, just before the article of furniture made harsh contact with the , his feet tangled together with his robes, and he couldn't move as a vase contacted his stomach, winding him. His had shot to his midriff, and he gasped for the breath that had fled from him. He glanced up at the stairs, and to his surprise, could see a figure standing up there holding something that was doubtless meant to hit dragged himself to his feet, glaring at the ghost thing...whatever it was, and flipping him a rather rude gesture. "You have fucking issues!" he screeched. "If my damn denomination hadn't fucking insisted on me coming here, then I would've been saved the goddamn idiocy of you!"He stood up fully, and crossed his arms over his chest in a bad-tempered gesture, his robes in disarray. Not that he even cared. He preferred street clothes, but the damn sect had kept him shoved in this effeminate garb. He wasn't a girl, so why was he wearing a dress?All right, maybe dress was stretching it a bit much, but he still didn't like the long flowing feel of the pristine white...oh screw it! They called it a choir dress, so it was a dress. He didn't mind the pectoral cross handing from his neck - that could be a fashion statement any time - but the stole...damn that thing! It was like a winter scarf in the summer!He shut his eyes, and massaged his temple with a hand, all of a sudden feeling very tired after his outburst. He frowned. But it didn't seem like the potato-ghost would let him stay here, much less sleep. Great. This was wonderful. Oh joy, oh rapture, oh damn you Feliciano for letting them sell me off like this.


	3. Chapter 3

Gilbert smirked and he couldn't help but laugh as the guy gasped and wheezed while he tried to scramble up. So be it the guy didn't want to leave? Well then he would take his sweet ass time dealing with him. Crack him open like a walnut and break him down. Ah what fun it would be. He was about ready to wave his hand and lockthe guy in from the outside and throw the brass candle holder he had gripped tightly in anger when the guy threw a hand gesture at he hadn't seen before. But that was beside the point. He was more shocked. Surprised. The guy.., he...it was...almost like...he...could see him. Slowly he lowered the candle holder as for a moment all could was look in wasn't though before that god damn anger and hatred flooded back into him but it wasn't as strong as it normally was. "Zhe house stays as it is." He pointed to the door down the hall. "Don't set vone foot in zhat room or else I vill send jou flying out zhat second story vindow so fast jou von't valk straight for zhe rest of jourlife. Und don't even zhink about trying to exorcise me. Or else I VILL end jou." He growled as he disappeared. A moment later said rooms door slammed shut as he sank back down by his window to try and make sense of what had happened. "Zhere's no vay he vas looking at me...I'm invisible..." He held up a pale transparent hand. "Ja...he vas just going by zhe sound of mein voice...he vasn't actually looking at me..." He murmured more to reassure himself before his hopes got even the slightest bit up.


	4. Chapter 4

Lovino waited for the contact of the candle holder with his head or some other part of his body, but as a few seconds passed, he realized that the figure was not sending the object hurtling in his direction. He frowned deeply, and crossed his arms over his vestment, feeling a little more than slightly pissed off, and also somewhat could see shock on the figure's face, and scowled, turning his head away stubbornly. It was like that person...thing...whatever it was, hadn't expected to be seen. Well that was stupid! How could Lovino not see him if he was standing right there in plain sight? He'd have to be blind to not see eyes slowly slid back to where the figure was standing, and his scowl grew deeper. He uncrossed his arms, and laid one on his hip, staring up at the man - it looked like a man, at least. Who was still staring at him like he had grown a second head or something. Well didn't anyone tell him that staring was rude? Apparently not. Of course, that was hypocrisy on Lovino's own part, but no one needed to know huffed slightly as the...apparition. Yes, that's what he would call it. That apparition addressed him. He glanced down at the door that was pointed out to him, and rolled his eyes. Didn't this apparition ever learn that prohibiting people from going somewhere was like an open invitation for them to go? Ah well. He'd humour the bastard, and stay away for 't try to exorcise? Oh. He was the ghosty demon thingy. Or whatever they wanted to call him. He seemed fairly human to Lovino. He rolled his eyes, and flipped another rude gesture at the ghost-thing's retreating back with a yell of, "It's not like I asked for this job, bastard!"


	5. Chapter 5

Gilbert scowled a little at the others accusations. Two other much more professional priests than that sorry excuse had both tried to as the bastard put it 'rid this goddamn universe of his existence'. Right before both of them ended up in the hospital with a coma. "Looks like the guys just looking for a reason. Just like I thought. He's nothing different." A somewhat devilish smirk crossed his face as he heard the front door slam. "Fine jou vant a reason to try und fail miserably at getting rid of me?" He rubbed his hands together. "I'll give jou vone zhen." He laughed as he got up and first he stole all of the others clothes besides the ones that the guy had been wearing when he had left and the religious attire and took it up to the attic where there was a bunch of old victorian era dresses. He gathered those up and put them in the guys suitcase and closed it. Locking the trunk his clothes were in and and throwing the key into the lake outback through the attic window. Next he went down stairs gathered up a bunch of ants...fire ants...that had been crawling around the house and pulled back the blankets on the bed. Dumping out the jar of ants on it and pulling the covers back up like nothing was out of the ordinary. He took some old cooking oil and laughed once more as he spread all over the slippery wooden floor in front of the door generously so that the guy would be sure to bus his ass as he came huffing and puffing and storming in. Then he set up a table close that would seem like just an ordinary table to pull yourself up with but it was weight triggered and would cause a bucket of 2 year old dirty mop water to fall and drench the guy. In the bathroom he laughed even more as he slipped in the wall and messed with the pipes and hoses until he switched the showers water supply and hooked it up to the raw sewage line dumkoff would come in and bust his ass on the hardwood floor. Go to help himself up with the table and bam dirty mop water. From there no doubt he would try and take a shower only to dowse himself further in raw sewage. From he would give up and just off the best hecould and opne his suitcase to find dressees instead ofhis clothes and just lay down. Only to have abunch of pissed off fireants crawl over him. "Kesesesese~ now all I have to do is vait! I am a genius! I'm awesome!" He laughed and besides the guy deserved it uf he was going to put through the pain of being exorcised. Nonetheless he floated happily to his room and settled down on the windowsill to wait. He could only imagine the look on his face when he got home.


	6. Chapter 6

Lovino strode off to the town, wishing that there was a faster way to get to the damn place. Apparent-fucking-ly not. Oh, when he got back to Italy, those damn priests and bishops and clergymen were so never going to hear the end of it. Especially his damn brother. If Feliciano was just going to ship him off because then he could get some alone time with the damn potato over there...Lovino could feel murderous intent rising, and stomped moodily down the gravel path eyeing the town with obvious disinterest. He wondered if ghost potatoes ate anything. Oh why the fuck did he even give a damn about it? Who cares if potato-ghosts ate. He didn't. If the apparition had a problem with it, they could shut the hell finally reached the town, and growled in frustration as he had to look around for a grocery shop. They'd better have tomatoes. If they didn't have tomatoes, he would turn their heads into pasta sauce. Then again, maybe not. Murder was a sin, and he didn't want to commit so great a knew perfectly well that for a holy man he wasn't very holy, but hey! If any other bastard was stuck in his place, they would turn out like he did. It wasn't like he chose to be like this! Hell, he wished he could be like his idiot brother. Everyone liked Feliciano better than they liked him. He liked Feliciano better than he liked himself!He strode into the store, and looked around the aisles of the small building. Singling out the produce unit, he walked over to it, and searched for his treasures. He frowned, finding nothing, but finally spotted them. They didn't have very many in this store, but at least they had whatever tomatoes the store had, he looked around once more before deciding to buy some other necessities like bread and other vegetables, as much as he was loath to do so. He spotted Italian sausage, and was quick to pick that up as well. Maybe he could make pasta...He walked through the store once more, and stocked up on anything he was in the mood for, before bringing his groceries to the cashier. Paying for the groceries, he quickly exited the store and headed down the path back for the old house. He sighed to himself, and frowned as he saw it. Something didn't seem quite within a few feet of the door, he ran his eyes over the fixture of the building. Although he wasn't the most intelligent of people, he knew how to spot a trick when it was played. Having been severely bullied when he was younger, he had learned how to evade their many somehow, he didn't feel the need to scream and curse, which was rather unusual for him. Dropping his groceries on the porch, he sat down on the steps, as his head dropped into his hands. All his previous thoughts of inferiority were getting to him, and they hurt. A lot.


	7. Chapter 7

Gilbert huffed in annoyance as he continued to sit by the window. Waiting anxiously for his holiness to get home. Looking at the time he frowned a little. Even he knew it didn't take too terribly long to get there and back. So he made his way out to the living room to check and see if he was coming. What met him was not what he expected to see. The guy looked rather...sad almost. A couple minutes went by and he cursed a little as he quickly put everything back to normal and headed back out to the front. It creaked as he pulled it open. "Quit looking so damn sad und get jour ass in here before jour groceries go bad..." He said as a hint of longing crept into his voice as he stared out the empty doorway. Wanting nothing more than to just be able to leave his century old cage. If only even just for a few minutes. "I'd help jou carry zhem...but...I can't so jou're on jour own zhere...und...just for zhe record even if jou do still get on mein nerves you're at least far more tolerable zhan anyvone else who has ever tried to live here..."With that he made his way back to his own room with one last look at the open doorway. Almost like it was taunting him...because it knew he couldn't leave. Settling down on his windowsill like usual once the bedrooms door had been closed he opened the window and tried to stick his hand out. Of course it was like the window wasn't even open at all. Like there was a second invisible window that couldn't be seen or broken. He pushed even harder but of course this only got him the same place it always did. Nowhere. He closed the window and leaned against it as he hugged his knees to his chest.


	8. Chapter 8

Lovino tensed as the door was pulled open. Great. Fucking great. Now the potato-ghost wanted to taunt him about who he was too? What was he doing wrong? He knew he had a temper that was far too easily provoked as well as a terrible mouth, but that was who he was...it wasn't like he could do much about it. What was the easiest way to keep bullies away? Act tough. Or that was how Lovino figured it worked anyway. No one bothered him that much as he grew and learned the terrible ways of life. Life...just what was it? Lovino had only experienced the worse things in life...rejection after rejection, inferiority, the terrible realization that you were being used...it wasn't a surprise that he was somewhat a he had turned a bitter eye to the world and all it had done was show him a mirror. A mirror that reflected the bitterness in his heart by a thousandfold, and multiplied it besides that as well. He just...didn't see much reason to be kind any more. If no one was kind to him, he could easily return the ...sometimes he wondered what it would be to have friends. Even if he didn't mean to, it always seemed like he pushed people away from himself. There was just something about him that either drove people around him away, or drove them to hate him. Not including his brother of course - Feliciano liked and was liked by everyone. Oh how he hated that...not his brother - he could never hate his brother. What he did hate, was the fact that he was the eldest being compared incessantly with his younger sibling, and time upon time found inferior to him. It didn't matter what it was: cooking, cleaning, singing, art, people skills...whatever it was, you could always expect Feliciano to be the best at it...when comparing him to was so lost in his thoughts that he only vaguely realized that the potato-ghost had invited him back into the house. What for? he thought bitterly. More humiliation? He didn't need more than he already had. With a small groan, he gave up, and turned to the door. He finally stood up, and dragged himself into the potato-ghost was nowhere to be seen. Probably hiding in a room again...with a sigh, and a glare at the dark wooden planks of the floor, Lovino closed the door and headed to the kitchen so that he could keep his groceries.


	9. Chapter 9

Gilbert sat there for a couple minutes watching as of rabbits chased each other around the yard playfully and he chuckled slightly to himself before sighing a bit. Thinking about the guy that was currently taking up residence. Finally after some debate he got up and headed and made his way downstairs and started tidying up the place a bit. Rearranging the furniture a little so the rooms seemed a bit more roomy and inviting. Dusting it and chasing out any bugs and checked to see if thw guy was in his room. Once he found he wasn't he chanfed the linens on the bed seeing as they were really musty and dusty from not having been used in so long. He unpacked the suitcases. Puring the clothes away neatly. Setting the few books and stuff on the desk and putting else away that was in there and opened the window to let in the afternoon breeze to air it out a bit so it wouldn't be so stuffy. He gathered up the dirty sheets as he heard footsteps coming down the hall. A small smile crossed his face. Perhaps he could at least try and cheer him up a bit. Sides he did kind of owe it to guy...seeing as he did send him flying into a tree and try and give a concussion with a table, vase and candle holder...and pull a rather rude prank on him earlier. He seemed so sad out on the porch earlier. So being a bit of a trickster he did the best thing he knew how, except in a more harmless way than before. He pulled out the top sheet and quickly pulled it over himself, waiting for the door to open. Once it did he waced his arms under the sheet. "Wooo~ I'm aaa~ ghoo~st!" He moaned out mockingly before giving a light laugh. Okay so it was cheesy but he thought it was funny but he flinched a little and pulled the sheet off as he heard him start yelling annoyedly at him. His eyes took on a bit of a dejected look as sent them downcast and gathered up the sheets. Without a word he disappeared. Appearing a moment later in the basement to set the sheets down in the basket. Poofing back up to his room once he did so and sat back on his windowsill he let out a slight hiss of pain as a couple flies flew through him before he chased them out as well. Looking at his transparent hands once more. "Vhy do I alvays feel like jou can actually see me vhen I know jou can't...no vone does...or talk to me either...but yet...jou look right at me...every time..." He couldn't decide which was worse. Not being seen period or...appearing as though someone could see you and getting the wrong idea and getting your up hopes up even though he knew it to not be possible. "I'm never getting out of this cage..." He murmured to himself. Sadly...he had...at first despised the guy cause he had been another intruder...and a priest on top of that...but...now...he actually thought that maybe at the very least...he was someone to talk to. But now he realized that it wasn't going to be. He had been to quick to judge...to quick to act. He tried to remind himself that he didn't need anyone. That he was perfectly fine on his own. But he couldn't. The constant hate and anger that had once made itself so clearly present no longer burned. Leaving in its wake only the crushing depression and thw truth that all he really wanted...was someone to listen. Someone to talk to. Someone who would aknowledge his presence and the fact that he had once been human. Even if it was a century and a half ago...a friend. "Who the hell vants to be friends vith casper zhe unfriendly ghost zhough? No vone...zhat's who..."


	10. Chapter 10

Lovino switched on some lights, and walked into the kitchen. He opened the fridge to, as suspected, find it empty. He threw all the produce items and the meat into the refrigerator, not bothering to place them inside in an orderly manner. After all, it wasn't like anyone else would be eating around here...unless of course potato-ghosts of potato-ghosts, Lovino still didn't know what to make of that apparition floating around like he had inhaled too much helium. The thing just starts to torment him and throw stuff at him...Lovino swore he still had that bruise on his midriff from the...whatever it was it the bastard had thrown at him took the bread, and set it on the table, before looking around. He was admittedly a little surprised that the place still received electricity and whatnot. Other than that floaty bastard, it didn't seem like anyone had lived here for...decades, perhaps. Probably because of the potato. Lovino knew that if there was a potato anywhere, he wouldn't want to live there. It wasn't like he wanted to be here with a potato anyway! He was forced to do it!Lovino glanced around, before walking out and into a place that he assumed was the living room. It looked like a living room. A little...all right, very dusty, but otherwise it was passable. He looked around once more, before heading over to where the apparition had designated his room to the door, he blinked as the top sheet of the bed began to move, and hollow moans sounded from underneath it. Lovino rolled his eyes. "Get off the sheet, bastard, you'll crumple it. And don't expect me to do the fucking ironing in this place unless I want to either!" Although his words were harsh, there was a smile tugging harshly on the corners of his lips at the ghost's felt a little guilty as he saw the look of dejection in the ghost's eyes. But it wasn't like he was going to apologize! Besides - it was the damn bastard's fault for being so immature anyway. He watched as the potato vanished before his eyes, and he sat down on the noted the fact that all his clothes had been unpacked and set away for later usage. He frowned. Did that damn potato not know anything about fashion? If there was one thing Lovino got peeved about far too easily, it was his wardrobe and the treatment thereof. The Italian was known for an impeccable fashion sense and, other than his priest's apparel, wore brand-name clothing chosen and matched by himself. If there was one thing he knew he could do decently, it was choose clothing. Not even his brother would be able to spot a fault in his attire. He began to sort through the folded garments, and sorted them through until he had rearranged the piles of clothing to suit his own interests. There...that was better. With a sigh, he fell down on the bed, staring up at the roof. Damn potato...he just didn't understand them.


	11. Chapter 11

After the outburst Gilberts mischevious antics and even the slightest urge to mess around with the guy had pretty much left which was unusual for him. Usuqlly he would have been pulling little pranks left and right. Moving a glass to a different when his back was turned. Making lights flicker or turning them on and off altogether. Stupid things like the stunt he'd pulled with the sheet...but...he didn't and for the better part of a week it was like the house had never been haunted in the first place. Not a single creak or groan of the floor boards that couldn't be debunked.

Gilbert just sat his windowsill. Not thinking anymore as his thoughts qould only make it worse however he did sing from time to time but his voice was so quiet that it was merely just the faintest of breezes. Eventually though he thoufht he would venture out of his room and see how the other was settling in. Fading into view faintly and silently in the living he took a walk around the house as he looked around at some new stuff that had been brought in before making his way down the hall when heard movement in the kitchen he faded again. Not wanting to be caught site of as floated over and peeked in the doorway watching him a cook for a moment with a sigh. As he realized most likely had heard it he slipped back around the corner and faded completely. Going back to his room. "Settling in nicely,..." He murmured. "That's good..."

For the next couple of days things went on like this. Him coming down here and there to look in on him secretly and helping him in small ways. Like leaving garlic on the cpunter if he forgot to move it or changing bed sheets now and then. Keeping up with dusting so it wouldn't stuffy. But all the while nothing happened. He just holed back up in his room.

Truth was...he didn't care anymore. He had finally come to terms with the fact that this would be his prison til the end of time so he figured he might at least try to keep him leaving..., at least it would be slightly more bearable if he wasn't alone in the house. And pranks or little tricks were sure to chase him away. He wondered if he ever crossed the guys mind or if he had just been forgotten altogether. He like to think he wasn't easily forgettable because of how awesome he was...but it seemed as days past that wasn't the fact. "Just as well..." He murmured as he watched yet another sun start to set as he wished as usual to be out of the house. Evwn though he knew it didn't do him any good.


	12. Chapter 12

Lovino frowned. For having to live in a house haunted by a potato ghost-bastard, he wasn't doing half bad. He was actually rather pleasantly surprised that the apparition had not yet tried to pull off some other stupid prank. To sy he was thankful might be stretching his own standards, but it really wasn't all that bad.

He'd be lying of he said he didn't want to be back in Italy, though. This place was...beginning to depress him, admittedly. The only inhabitant of this place other than him was a ghost, and a ghost potato no less. At this point, he'd rather have his brother over here. Then again...maybe not. The bastard was keeping quiet while his idiot brother would be running around yelling about something or the other.

He sighed. It was tiresome here. There was nothing much he could do in this building save walk around. The place was surprisingly tidy, and he knew that the ghost-bastard probably had something to do with it. He wouldn't complain yet, though. He wasn't exactly a welcome guest here.

Feeling rather hungry, he decided to fix himself something decent to eat. Even if it was only something small. After all, he had finally obtained time where he would not be disturbed. After a moment's thought, he frowned and shook his head. He didn't want to be watched by a potato again.

Instead, he pulled out his priest's garments, and slipped them on. He was feeling a little guilty, as he had not taken proper time to pray in a while. He sighed softly, and knelt down on the floor a little distance away from the bed he used, and held a rosary to his lips, quietly murmuring prayers and requests in his native tongue.

He didn't know for how long he had been praying, neither did he realize that in all the quiet fervency of his actions, tears had begun to roll down his face. Not of sadness, anger, or happiness, but of burden. At times, he felt that the happiness of others came at his own expense...but there was far more to Lovino then a bad temper and hatred.

He was burdened. Burdened by the weight of all he bothered to care about, crying out almost desperately for the wrath of his Creator to turn away from those who did wrong, even if the cost was for he himself to pay. Slowly, he even found himself incorporating a prayer for that ghost as well. Whatever had happened, he wished peace upon that apparition. He had not seen only hatred - he had seen fear and suffering.


	13. Chapter 13

Gilbert spent another couple of days in his room and by this time he couldn't even remember who he was anymore and it was bothering him. He could remember most everything else but he couldn't remember his name nor the date. He paced back and forth silently as he tried to think of it. But alas he had no luck.

He went to the basement to try and find something. Anything. Anything that could possibly give him a clue. No such luck. So he made his way to the attic where again he had no such luck. Making his way over to the window up there that overlooked the entire backyard he gave a sigh. Looking at the tree whose base was surrounded by a stone circle. Each one having some sort of symbol drawn it. It had been here for as long as he had. But he had never able to get out and investigate.

With a sigh he realized what it came down to and sat for a couple minutes and just tried to think before finally giving up. He made his back down to his room and got a piece of scratch paper and a pen.

Hay...I'm sorry...to bother you that is...but I need to ask a small favor...i-if you don't mind. You don't have to...if you don't want to...I know I haven't been exactly kind to you the first couple of days. I...I know you don't think I'm kind but that's no ones fault but my own.

Anyway...I...I seem to have forgotten what...my name is...could you possibly go down to the library tomorrow...and possibly...maybe do a little research...i-it might be a bit hard...since my ownership of this house...was...over a century ago...but...I...well...yeah...

Oh...and...maybe a date...like even just what year we're currently in...just a thought. Thanks...in advance...you wouldn't even have to talk to me either...just...I don't know...write it down on the back of this so I can check it later...

-I don't know

P.S. I-if you...ever...do want to talk or...maybe...even get to know each other...a little...or listen to a suspicion of mine as too why I can't leave...we can...and...hey...at least the sooner I'm able to move on...the less time you'll have to put up with me...and the sooner they can tear down the house.

He looked at it for a moment and then made his way downstairs silently to the kitchen and found a piece of tape. Sticking it to the fridge for him to find whenever.

He went to head back to his room when noticed that one of the lights were just barely hanging by a thread and he frowned a bit. Knowing that it could be dangerous if it fell and hit the guy. So he made his way once more down to the basement and looked around until he found some tools and some duct tap left behind by one of the previous owners. Fixing the light fixture sturdily he nodded a bit in satisfaction before heading back to his room with a sigh. "Now all I can do is wait..." He murmured.


End file.
